The morning light seeped through as a boy stretched and out came a low moan. He got out of bed and said a little prayer, went to the kitchen where he’d thought his mother would be, only to find it empty, with the plates from last night still unwashed. “Mom?”
He heard someone cough and he turned to see his mom smiling at him. “You didn’t think something bad had happened to me, did you?”
He heaved a sigh of relief, and said, “I was thinking you’d be here since dad’s not feeling well.”
The middle-aged woman smiled, patting his head. “He has eaten. I woke up early and prepared porridge for him. It’s in the pot.” She added.
The boy licked his lips and made for the stove, as his mum called him back, and asked, “Have you brushed?”
He laughed and shook his head, hurrying out the door.
Amadi was his name—a spoiled brat and an over pampered child—a bully, and the street’s most feared. He was a stubborn bratty kid—the type who derived joy in beating other kids and seeing them taken to the hospital. His mother would always defend him, stating her son was going through a phase and would outgrow it. 
  It was one complaint or the other, everyday–people tagged him to be ‘possessed’.
  Countless mischiefs in their neighbourhood was trailed to The Okafors' home. Everyone knew their son to be a wild, wild untrained kid.
  One time he had attempted raping a girl in their neighbourhood, if not for her screams that brought men to the scene.
  Many times Amadi was threatened by the parents who trooped in to complain about his behaviour. Not one of them wanted their kids socializing with him.
  Each day Amadi would go to the uncompleted building in their street, known to be the home of those who went bad. He’d skip school and stay there all day ‘til he was filled. Amadi’s behaviour was getting out of hand, and several children, because of him, were sent to the hospital, with the displeasing wounds he had left.
  No one knew why a boy, old enough to tell what’s right or wrong, behaved in a way that would make anyone who came by hate him.
  One day Amadi’s father suggested that their son be taken to a priest’s house—if it were to be a foul spirit driving him, and having him do abnormal things—it be casted out. Amadi’s mother would shrug and insist that her son was fine. “Papa Amadi. Papa Amadi, please don’t worry yourself. Don't worry yourself. Our son is perfectly fine. He’s fine! You know how kids these days are. They like doing silly things.”
  Amadi was pleased to see his mom was on his side.
  All the things he did, he did them not by his hands. There was indeed a spirit leading him—and as it did, he did a whole lot more—


✍


ஜ۩۞۩ஜ ✍POSSESSED✍ ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Should I make this a novel and not a short story instead?
Had this cooking last year. Thought I could share

『P』『O』『S』『S』『E』『S』『S』『E』『D』
❣ Jessica ✍️ Duru ❣
CHAPTER ✍️ ONE [UNEDITED]
(Never wanted to make this a novel but... )

"Mama Amadi, where is that useless son of yours?" Mama Ekene rushed in with her son, showing the boy's bruised face to the culprit's mother. "Just look at what he did to my son. My baby—"
"You're very stupid to have stepped your foot in here." Mama Amadi came out. "Just who the hell do you think you are coming into my home, accusing my son?"
"Oh shut up, you stupid woman." Mama Ekene hushed. "Like mother, like son," she hissed and looked at her son. "Ekene,"
Ekene answered, "Ma."
"I give you the right to beat the hell out of this woman."
Ekene gasped with eyes widened. "Ma?"
"I said beat the hell out of this woman or I'll call your brother—"
Mama Amadi readied herself, spreading her legs to adjust her wrapper.
"He'll do no such thing!" Mr Okafor came out and walked towards them, as Mama Ekene eyed him, going back to ordering her son. "Ekene—"
Mama Amadi cut her short. "Ekene," she called the woman's child. "Don't listen to your mother. She doesn't know what she's saying."
Ekene's mother roared madly and beat her chest. "Mua? Mua Ngozika,"
Me, Ngozika—
She looked at her son again. "Ekene, beat this stupid woman up. I don't know what you're waiting for,"
Ekene replied shakily, "I can't, M-Mom. I can't do that."
"You see," Mama Amadi motioned to the boy. "You see!" she stood firm where she was. "Even your son is far more better than you."
Mama Ekene looked at her with very angry eyes. "Shut up, you ingrate mother of a bastard child!"
Mama Amadi not being able to hold herself anymore, rushed towards her and gripped her. "I'll teach you a lesson for calling me that." Both women fell, and mama Amadi's husband made to intervene, yelling at the top of his voice—
A blow caught his face, and he, too, fell, yelling in his dialect, "Eei! O gbwo lammeee. O gbwo lammeee."
Oh! They have killed me—
They have killed me!!!
Papa Amadi couldn't stop shouting, as the women continued.
Ekene rushed out, wasting no time alerting neighbours. They rushed to the scene, only to find the women rolling—and with injuries all over; with one of Mama Ekene's ears lying on the floor.

°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· After the incident ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° ✍️✍️

"You disgraced me today. For what reason?!"
Mama Amadi made to talk as her husband shut her up. "Have you no shame?"
Amadi came bouncing in as his father rolled angry eyes at him. "And where are you coming from?"
Amadi looked at him and hissed, greeted his mother, and asked if there was food in the house.
"Yes, my son. It's in the kitchen."
Papa Amadi hollered; "Come back here! Have you lost it?"
Amadi ignored him and left for his room, while his dad watched, completely speechless.
He wondered what kind of a son his wife had birthed, blaming her for over pampering and making him behave in such way. "You had better know what you did to that son of yours."
Mama Amadi clapped her hands. "So he's my son... not ours anymore?"
Papa Amadi gave no reply, but retired to his room, not needing anyone to disturb.

TO BE CONT'D ✍️❣

Your LIKES...
...and COMMENTS
... please

Thanks, guys

Babe I think you should concetrate and make this story a banger.

CHAPTER TWO
¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º° POSSESSED °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°°º¤ø,¸
➶➶➶➶➶ Chapter Two ➷➷➷➷➷
★彡✍ Jessica Duru ✍彡★

Ikeme Amadi’s father dozed off and began dreaming. He saw his son being chased by an angry mob; he could see that he had done something wrong for them to want to get him.
Soon they caught up with him, and they placed a tyre over his head, lighting him—as his screams filled the air.
“Amadi!”
Nwakaego, Amadi’s mother, came rushing in on hearing him scream. “ŋŋą ɱ, ơɠıŋı?”
Ikeme was sweating profusely, panting like one who was about to die.
“ƙɛɖų ıʄơ ŋų?”
What is it?
“ɠıŋı ɱé?”
What happened?
His wife asked at once, as no words came out of his mouth.
Ikeme was breathing heavily, and Mama Amadi was forced to ask again; “What is it?” she was scared to think something was wrong, seeing her husband looking pale. “Did you have a bad dream?” she asked with a worried look, as her husband requested for water, and she rushed and brought a bottle for him. “Now, can you tell me?”
Ikeme raised the bottle and let the water pour into his mouth. “My wife,” he belched, feeling almost better. “You wouldn’t believe what I saw,”
Nwakaego asked with keen interest, “What did you see?” she made to sit, and her husband began narrating his dream.
“Wonders!” she exclaimed after hearing everything. “So, this is what you saw?”
Ikeme affirmed, and went further to tell her what his mind held. “We really have to take this dream serious,” he said, “Our son’s in grave danger.”
Mama Amadi clapped and got up from beside him, “You and your superstitious believe won’t kill me one day,” she gestured with her hands. She made to adjust the wrapper tied around her chest; the poor clingy thing looking already washed from too much tying—as she made to leave, turning to her husband once again. “You better don’t take that dream serious,” she laughed and walked to the door. “Silly mind be conjuring things.” she said loud and clear, and walked out stylishly.
↫↫↫ ~~~ ↬↬↬
Ikeme was on his way to Ichie Onukwu’s house when a man stopped him, and asked if he was Amadi’s father.
He asked the man if something was wrong, telling him he was Amadi’s father; “Yes, I am,” he replied in his most gentle way. “Has my son done something wrong?”
The man chuckled, and fixed his gaze on him. “That son of yours is a great one indeed—” he looked at the clouds, as though searching for something. “He is indeed a great one.”
Ikeme stood agape. “Great?”
The man continued, “The soul of the one haunted before, rests in him.”
Ikeme repeated his words, “The soul of the one haunted before?”
The strange man nodded. “You are not to blame him for anything he does; the one awakened by your grandfather—he smiled—dwells within.” He pursed his lips together again, as Ikeme went further to ask, “The one awakened?”
The man’s croaked voice grew into an angry one. “Do you not understand the things I say?” he looked sharply at the man beside him, his temper rising, making his body tremble. “Vengeance!” he yelled. “Vengeance!” he backed Ikeme—and disappeared

׺°”˜”°º× To Be Cont’d ׺°”˜”°º×

Can you guys see this?


¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º° POSSESSED °º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸
➶➶➶➶➶ Chapter Two ➷➷➷➷➷
★彡✍ Jessica Duru ✍彡★

ıƙɛɱɛ ąɱąɖı’ʂ ʄąɬɧɛཞ ɖơʑɛɖ ơʄʄ ąŋɖ ცɛɠąŋ ɖཞɛąɱıŋɠ. ɧɛ ʂąῳ ɧıʂ ʂơŋ ცɛıŋɠ ƈɧąʂɛɖ ცყ ąŋ ąŋɠཞყ ɱơც; ɧɛ ƈơųƖɖ ʂɛɛ ɬɧąɬ ɧɛ ɧąɖ ɖơŋɛ ʂơɱɛɬɧıŋɠ ῳཞơŋɠ ʄơཞ ɬɧɛɱ ɬơ ῳąŋɬ ɬơ ɠɛɬ ɧıɱ.
ʂơơŋ ɬɧɛყ ƈąųɠɧɬ ų℘ ῳıɬɧ ɧıɱ, ąʂ ɬɧɛყ ℘Ɩąƈɛɖ ą ɬყཞɛ ơ۷ɛཞ ɧıʂ ɧɛąɖ, Ɩıɠɧɬıŋɠ ɧıɱ—ąʂ ɧıʂ ƈཞıɛʂ ʄıƖƖɛɖ ɬɧɛ ąıཞ.

“ąɱąɖı!”

ŋῳąƙąɛɠơ, ąɱąɖı’ʂ ɱơɬɧɛཞ, ཞųʂɧɛɖ ıŋ ơŋ ɧɛąཞıŋɠ ɧɛཞ ɧųʂცąŋɖ ʂƈཞɛąɱ. “ŋŋą ɱ, ơɠıŋı?”
ıƙɛɱɛ ῳąʂ ʂῳɛąɬıŋɠ ℘ཞơʄųʂɛƖყ, ℘ąŋɬıŋɠ Ɩıƙɛ ơŋɛ ῳɧơ ῳąʂ ąცơųɬ ɬơ ɖıɛ.

“ƙɛɖų ıʄơ ŋų?”

ῳɧąɬ ıʂ ıɬ?

“ɠıŋı ɱɛɛ?”

ῳɧąɬ ɧą℘℘ɛŋɛɖ?

ɧıʂ ῳıʄɛ ąʂƙɛɖ ąɬ ơŋƈɛ, ąʂ ŋơ ῳơཞɖʂ ƈąɱɛ ơųɬ of ɧıʂ ɱơųɬɧ.

℘ą℘ą ąɱąɖı ῳąʂ ცཞɛąɬɧıŋɠ ɧɛą۷ıƖყ, ąŋɖ ɱąɱą ąɱąɖı ῳąʂ ʄơཞƈɛɖ ɬơ ąʂƙ ąɠąıŋ,
“ῳɧąɬ ıʂ ıɬ?” ʂɧɛ ῳąʂ ʂƈąཞɛɖ, sɛɛıŋɠ ɧɛཞ ɧųʂცąŋɖ aƖཞɛąɖყ ℘ąƖɛ. “ɖıɖ ყơų ɧą۷ɛ ą ɬɛཞཞıცƖɛ ɖཞɛąɱ?”

ɧɛ ཞɛզųɛʂɬɛɖ ʄơཞ ῳąɬɛཞ ɬơ ცɛ ცཞơųɠɧɬ, ąʂ ŋῳąƙąɛɠơ ཞųʂɧɛɖ ąŋɖ ცཞơųɠɧɬ ą ცơɬɬƖɛ ʄཞơɱ ɬɧɛ ʄཞıɖɠɛ. “ŋơῳ, ƈąŋ ყơų ɬɛƖƖ ɱɛ?”

ıƙɛɱɛ ཞąıʂɛɖ ɬɧɛ ცơɬɬƖɛ ąŋɖ Ɩɛɬ ɬɧɛ ῳąɬɛཞ ℘ơųཞ ıŋɬơ ɧıʂ ɱơųɬɧ. “ɱყ ῳıʄɛ,” ɧɛ ცɛƖƈɧɛɖ, ʄɛɛƖıŋɠ ąƖɱơʂɬ ცɛɬɬɛཞ. “ყơų ῳơųƖɖ ŋơɬ ცɛƖıɛ۷ɛ ῳɧąɬ ı ʂąῳ,”

ŋῳąƙąɛɠơ ąʂƙɛɖ ῳıɬɧ ƙɛɛŋ ıŋɬɛཞɛʂɬ, “ῳɧąɬ ɖıɖ ყơų ʂɛɛ?” ʂɧɛ ɱąɖɛ ɬơ ʂıɬ, ąʂ ɧɛཞ ɧųʂცąŋɖ ʂɬཞąıɠɧɬɛŋɛɖ ɧıɱʂɛƖʄ ąŋɖ ცɛɠąŋ ŋąཞཞąɬıŋɠ ɧıʂ ɖཞɛąɱ.

“ῳơŋɖɛཞʂ!” ʂɧɛ ɛҳƈƖąıɱɛɖ ąʄɬɛཞ ɧɛąཞıŋɠ ɛ۷ɛཞყɬɧıŋɠ. “ʂơ, ɬɧıʂ ıʂ ῳɧąɬ ɧą℘℘ɛŋɛɖ ῳɧıƖɛ ყơų ῳɛཞɛ ąʂƖɛɛ℘?”

ıƙɛɱɛ ƈơųƖɖ ʂɛŋʂɛ ɬɧɛ ɱơƈƙɛཞყ ıŋ ɧɛཞ ۷ơıƈɛ. “ąཞɛ ყơų ɬཞყıŋɠ ɬơ ɱơƈƙ ɱɛ?” ɧɛ Ɩɛɬ ơųɬ ῳɧąɬ ɧıʂ ɱıŋɖ ɬɧơųɠɧɬ; “ɱąɱą ąɖı, ῳɛ ཞɛąƖƖყ ɧą۷ɛ ɬơ ɬąƙɛ ɬɧıʂ ɖཞɛąɱ ʂɛཞıơųʂƖყ. ơųཞ ʂơŋ ıʂ ıŋ ɠཞą۷ɛ ɖąŋɠɛཞ.”

ŋῳąƙąɛɠơ ƈƖą℘℘ɛɖ ąŋɖ ɠơɬ ų℘ ʄཞơɱ ცɛʂıɖɛ ɧıɱ. “ყơų ąŋɖ ყơųཞ ʂų℘ɛཞʂɬıɬıơųʂ ცɛƖıɛ۷ɛ ῳıƖƖ ŋơɬ ƙıƖƖ ɱɛ ơŋɛ ɖąყ.” ʂɧɛ ąɖʝųʂɬɛɖ ɧɛཞ ῳཞą℘℘ɛཞ. ɬɧɛ ℘ơơཞ ƈƖıŋɠყ ɬɧıŋɠ ῳąʂ ąƖཞɛąɖყ Ɩơơƙıŋɠ ơƖɖ ąŋɖ ɬơơ ῳơཞŋ ơųɬ, ąʄɬɛཞ ʂơ ɱąŋყ ყɛąཞʂ ơʄ ცɛıŋɠ ųʂɛɖ. ɱąɱą ąɱąɖı ɱąɖɛ ɬơ Ɩɛą۷ɛ, ąʂ ʂɧɛ ɬųཞŋɛɖ ɬơ ɧɛཞ ɧųʂცąŋɖ ąŋɖ ɬơƖɖ ɧıɱ ɬơ ʄơཞɠɛɬ ῳɧąɬ ɧɛ ʂąῳ, ɬɛƖƖing ɧıɱ ɧıʂ ɱıŋɖ was only ƈơŋʝųཞıŋɠ ɬɧıŋɠʂ. “ყơų ცɛɬɬɛཞ ɖơŋ’ɬ ɬąƙɛ ɬɧąɬ ɖཞɛąɱ ʂɛཞıơųʂ,” ʂɧɛ Ɩąųɠɧɛɖ ąŋɖ ῳąƖƙɛɖ ơųɬ ʂɬყƖıʂɧƖყ.

↫↫↫ ~~~ ↬↬↬

ıƙɛɱɛ ῳąʂ ơŋ ɧıʂ ῳąყ ɬơ ıƈɧıɛ ơŋųƙῳų'ʂ ɧơųʂɛ, ῳɧɛŋ ąŋ ɛƖɖɛཞƖყ ɱąŋ ʂɬơ℘℘ɛɖ ɧıɱ, ąŋɖ ąʂƙɛɖ ɧıɱ ıʄ ɧɛ ῳąʂ ąɱąɖı'ʂ ʄąɬɧɛཞ.

"ყɛʂ, ı'ɱ ąɱąɖı'ʂ ʄąɬɧɛཞ, ıƙɛɱɛ ཞɛ℘Ɩıɛɖ ıŋ ɧıʂ ɱơʂɬ ɠɛŋɬƖɛ ῳąყ, ąʂƙing tɧɛ ɱąŋ ıʄ ʂơɱɛɬɧıŋɠ ῳąʂ ῳཞơŋɠ.

"ŋơ." ɬɧɛ ɛƖɖɛཞƖყ ɱąŋ ʂąıɖ. "ცųɬ ʂơơŋ—" ɧɛ Ɩơơƙɛɖ ąɬ ɬɧɛ ƈƖơųɖʂ ąŋɖ ʄıҳɛɖ ɧıʂ ɠąʑɛ ơŋ ıƙɛɱɛ. "ყơųr ƈɧıƖɖ ıʂ ą ɠཞɛąɬ ơŋɛ ıŋɖɛɛɖ,"

ıƙɛɱɛ ʂɬơơɖ ąɠą℘ɛ.

"ɬɧɛ ʂơųƖ ơʄ ɬɧɛ ơŋɛ ɧąųŋɬɛɖ ცɛʄơཞɛ ཞɛʂɬʂ ıŋ ɧıɱ,"

ıƙɛɱɛ ཞɛ℘ɛąɬɛɖ ɧıʂ ῳơཞɖʂ; "ɬɧɛ ʂơųƖ ơʄ ɬɧɛ ơŋɛ ɧąųŋɬɛɖ?"

ɬɧɛ ʂɬཞąŋɠɛ ɱąŋ ŋơɖɖɛɖ. "ყơų ąཞɛ ŋơɬ ɬơ ცƖąɱɛ ɧıɱ ʄơཞ ῳɧąɬɛ۷ɛཞ ɬɧıŋɠ ɧɛ ɖơɛʂ,"

ıƙɛɱɛ ąʂƙɛɖ, "ɧųɧ?"

"ɬɧɛ ơŋɛ ąῳąƙɛŋɛɖ ცყ ყơųཞ ɠཞąŋɖʄąɬɧɛཞ ɖῳɛƖƖʂ ῳıɬɧıŋ."

"ɖῳɛƖƖʂ ῳıɬɧıŋ?"

ɬɧɛ ɱąŋ'ʂ ƈཞơąƙɛɖ ۷ơıƈɛ ɠཞɛῳ ıŋɬơ ąŋ ąŋɠཞყ ơŋɛ. "ɖơ ყơų ŋơɬ ųŋɖɛཞʂɬąŋɖ ɬɧɛ ɬɧıŋɠʂ ı ʂąყ?"

ıƙɛɱɛ ąŋʂῳɛཞɛɖ ơųɬ ơʄ ʄɛąཞ. "ŋ-ŋơ,"

ɬɧɛ ơɖɖ ɱąŋ ʂɱıƖɛɖ ąɠąıŋ, ʂɧơơƙ ɧıʂ ɧɛąɖ, ąŋɖ ɬųཞŋɛɖ ąཞơųŋɖ, ʄųƖƖყ ცąƈƙıŋɠ ɧıɱ. "۷ɛŋɠɛąŋƈɛ! ۷ɛŋɠɛąŋƈɛ!"

ıƙɛɱɛ ʂąῳ ɧıɱ ŋơ ɱơཞɛ, ąʂ ɧɛ ཞɛąƖıʑɛɖ ɧɛ ῳąʂŋ'ɬ ɖཞɛąɱıŋɠ.

ɬơ ცɛ ƈơŋɬ’ɖ

Both chapters are the same,but I want to know something

Pls ✍ mention your friends as you read. I don't want here to be dull

Hungerbadoo:
Babe I think you should concetrate and make this story a banger.

Lol. Thank you, sir. And yeah, I will. Just pray sch doesn't choke

Jaylynn:


Lol. Thank you, sir. And yeah, I will. Just pray sch doesn't choke

You don't reply mails.

Hungerbadoo:
You don't reply mails.

Oh my! I thought I replied yours. I know I did. Pls check

Bring it on

REREAD CHAPTER THREE
HAPPY SUNDAY, GUYS

This place is quiet. Oh, boy. Seems like I'll start taking the chapters down

Two seconds everywhere burst

Hungerbadoo:
Two seconds everywhere burst

LOLz. Aswear

I'm reposting CHAPTER 3&4 so y'all can read and not get confused.

ᑕᕼᗩᑭ丅ᗴᖇ 丅ᕼᖇᗴᗴ

Ikeme went back, forgetting all about why he came outside. He told his wife everything, insisting they saw a priest. “My wife, please let’s take this boy to church. This is not ordinary o.”
His wife shut—“Taa! Puchionu!. What is not ordinary? Is it not what you see kids of these days do?”
Ikeme looked at her, not sure if she was the one talking. “Kids of these days?” Papa Amadi shook his head, concluding that his wife was heavily blinded. “Do you not see the way he does?” he asked, resting his elbows on his legs, with his chin made to rest. “Have you seen anyone behave in that way?”
His wife hissed and averted her gaze, resting it on the clock. “Where is that boy nah?”
Ikeme said, “Hm,” he asked, “Has he gone out again?”
Amadi rushed in at that minute, panting heavily. “Mama—” his breath couldn’t let him speak.
His mother asked him what the problem was, swiftly getting to her feet, making towards him—she asked if everything was alright—as Amadi burst out laughing, getting them confused.
“Amadi, what is it?” His dad joined to question, as he continued.
“Amadi—" his mother called with a worried look.
“Amadi, say something. What is making you laugh?”
Amadi continued, walking to his room with hands placed on his belly, as his parents watched, wondering if their son had gone mad.
“You see what I’m saying,” Ikeme said to his wife, as she shot him a stare he recognized. “My son is fine. she said, trying to convince—he is fine!"

***
Amadi laid on the floor, still in that state, and made to shut his eyes as an image stood carved on the wall, disappearing almost immediately. It was a shadow, he could swear. The shadow reappeared, and Amadi anxious to know who’s it was, followed it to the back door.
“Amadi—” he heard someone call. “Amadi—” he couldn’t recognize who it was.
Amadi was half scared, and he made to move backwards as something caught his legs and he fell. He was terrified to the core. He didn’t know if he was dreaming, or it was his mind playing tricks on him. “Who are you?!”
The voice drew closer. “Amadi—”
“What do you want from me?”
“Amadi—”
Amadi could see his evening visitor very well. He had never seen a ghost before, but this sure gave him the creeps. He shut his eyes, breathlessly praying, as he promised the Lord to be good if he saved him from this man.
“Amadi, wake up!”
Amadi opened his eyes to see his mother staring at him. He asked her what the time was and if she had seen the man. His mother asked worriedly, what man he was speaking of, and Amadi rose to his feet, with eyes focused on the door, as he said, “He’s here.”
“Who’s here?”
“He’s here.”
Amadi’s parents wasted no time taking him to the priest’s house. “Father Mmadu, please save our son. He is no longer himself.”
Father Mmadu observed the boy before proceeding to pray. He quickly removed his hands, seeing what laid inside of him, bursting into tongues, as he reached for the holy water beside. “In the name of the father…”
Amadi roared.
“And of the son…”
Amadi screamed.
“And of the holy—” the holy water was knocked off before he could complete.

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ₣ØɄⱤ

The Reverend Father had been rushed to a hospital the minute Amadi aggressively pounced on him. The latter had dismantled his face, ran off, and left him lying almost dead. His parents had seen for themselves that truly their son had gone out of control, and they searched frantically for him.
“My son. Oh, my son—” Amadi’s mother couldn’t stop crying on their way home, having searched. She was worried sick about her only child, praying heavily for God to come to their aid, as the view outside flushed goosebumps all over her. “Stop the car,”
Her husband didn’t need anyone telling him, as he did. “What has our son done now?” he asked as his wife shrugged her shoulders in a way to tell she didn’t know, and got down.
“Madam, where is your son?” A man emerged from the crowd. “Where is he?!”
“P-please what has he done?” Nwakaego was terrified, seeing how outraged they were.
“Madam, no dey speak English,” another man appeared. “Where is your son?!” Amadi’s mother couldn’t help but cry, knowing the end has come.
She was led to where a boy laid stretched out on the ground, as her husband gave a yell, remembering his dream.
“So, this is what the dream was trying to tell me?” he muttered to himself as Mama Amadi had her hands over her head, with hot beads of sweat rolling down her face. “This boy has killed me.” she said to no one in particular. “My son has killed me!” a piercing pain shot through her heart, and she collapsed.

***

Amadi’s mother was rushed to the hospital—on reaching there, she was pronounced dead.
“Eei!” Papa Amadi couldn’t hold back his tears. His wife was gone; he could hear her voice echoing in his ears; “My son has killed me—” he truly has. Ikeme blamed himself for letting her come with him. She’d have been alive if she had stayed in the car—those were his thoughts. He remembered the strange man’s words. The spirit of the one he‘d mentioned, was truly in possession of his only child. All explanations given to the people fell on deaf ears. The many present at the hospital insisted on him bringing out his child from wherever he had hidden him. “I haven’t seen him, I swear,”
“You must bring him out. He killed a boy, that’s no petty crime!” The people had gone blind with rage. Those who witnessed the scene said that Amadi kept on hitting him ‘til he was left without breath. The boy had only passed him, and Amadi had drawn him back, only for him to push him down and get atop him. It was too late for anyone to intervene, as the first throw knocked him out—this they explained.
Ikeme was given no chance to mourn his wife. Never for once did he think he’d be in such a situation. He remembered Father Mmadu at that point, wishing he was there. The thought of him being in a critical condition frustrated him even more. “If only—” the voice of a man stopped him. “What are you doing here?” he saw the man that had revealed to him the quest of the spirit that laid inside of his son. What was he doing there?
”You have to hurry,” the man pulled Ikeme with him. “We don’t have much time,” Ikeme was left with no option but to follow. He asked Ikeme to get in the car once they were out the building; Ikeme was confused on why he should do so. “But why?”
“Just get in!”
Ikeme did as he was told, not questioning any further. He drove until they came to a spot—it seemed like the perfect place to kill someone and not have anyone know. “Why am I here?” Ikeme asked, “What business do I have of this place?”
The man chuckled, and stretched out his hand, as out came a shovel.
“My God!” Ikeme yelled, and got the car door open as he got out.
“Wait!”
“Who are you?!”
The man replied, “I am Njete.” His name rang a bell.
“What do you want from me?!”
He asked Ikeme to follow him. “Come—” the curious man followed, as they got to a spot.
“What is this place?”
The elderly man looked at him. “Do you not know?”
Ikeme shook his head.
“Oh. How little you were—”
Ikeme understood not a thing. “Little?” he was anxious to know what he meant. “What do you mean?”
The old man chuckled, not replying yet, as he went digging.


๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ To Be Cont'd ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑

Nice story ; waiting for next update

CHAPTER FIVE
ғɪɴᴀʟᴇ ✍❤

Ikeme could utter not a word or say a thing. He couldn’t make a run for it either, knowing he was with a ghost; he could only watch. The man brought out a skull, making him shift back. He was terrified, seeing the mud-covered cavity—it was the first time seeing it so close. “Wh-what…?” Ikeme swallowed hard as his voice failed him.

“This is what is remaining of me,” Njete said.
Ikeme’s legs were trembling, making him unable to stand. His companion saw this, asking him to sit on the ground, as he refused, stating the truth was all he wanted to hear.
“The truth?”
Ikeme nodded. “I need the truth, he went further to say—nothing but the truth!”
Njete agreed, taking his place on the ground. “I want to tell you a story,” the elderly man’s solemn voice made Ikeme sit. As eager as he was, he couldn’t wait to know why his son was dragged into this, and the mystery behind the man’s death. “How did you die? Did my grandfather kill you? What has my son Amadi got to do with this? Is vengeance really what you seek?” Ikeme was questioning with no pause, angering the man a bit.
“Are you going to hear my story or not?”
Ikeme brought his legs up a bit, and cupped his knees. Njete went further to tell him that his grandfather, Emejona, was his best friend back in the days.
“Back in the days?” Ikeme found it hard believing.
“Your grandfather and me were best of friends…”

Many years ago—

“Emejona, I cannot give you what you ask for. This is the only thing left of my late father.”
“But I am not asking you to give me the land free of charge. I am going to buy it.”
“Still I cannot sell it to you.”
“But why? I thought you were my friend?” Emejona was heartbroken to see his friend was adamant about the land. The land his friend had inherited from his father was one of the biggest in Ukabi. He wanted it for his business. He was to add it to the many farms he had possession of, and employ more workers who’d work there. If only his best friend would understand how desperate he wanted the land. “Njete…”
“Emejona, my word is final. I cannot sell this land to you. Period!”

_____

“Your grandfather insisted that my father’s land be sold to him. He couldn’t stop pestering me, even further threatening me to the extent of saying he was going to get ahold of the papers by any means. I didn’t know what had gotten over him, but I knew it wasn’t my best friend standing there.”
Ikeme listened.
“Your grandfather’s obsession for my late father’s land drove him to committing a grave sin.”
Ikeme knew where this was headed. “Pa Jona killed you—”
A faint smile rested on his lips. “Yes.”
Ikeme’s heart was shattered. He had always thought his grandfather—Pa Jona, as he called him—died a good man. He remembered the many praises that were showered on the day he died; people calling him all manners of good names—names if they knew he didn’t deserve, wouldn’t be mentioned or even be given to him. Pa Jona was a murderer and he died one. Ikeme’s heart was throbbing with the pain he felt. He didn’t know if to be a man or to let out the tears that wanted to flow. “So Pa Jona did all that?”
Njete nodded. “I had confronted him that day when he had threatened my wife. I was angered by it, so I wanted to face him. But instead I found my death.”
Ikeme found all this strange. Pa Jona wouldn’t have done all that. He was too good that not anyone would believe he was capable of killing. Ikeme felt so sorry for the crime his grandfather had committed. He wished there was anything he could do… anything to turn back the hands of time.
“You’re pained,” Njete observed. “Don’t be.” he stood up.
Ikeme looked at him, smiled faintly, and asked, “But you said the soul of the one haunted before, meaning you were saying then that you were reincarnated and my son…”
“I only said that to induce fear.”
Ikeme went further to ask, “But why did my son have to be brought into this? He did nothing.”
Njete made him remember…

×××××
“Son, you are not to tell anyone about this. Grandpa and I will join you soon.”
“Okay, daddy.”


Ikeme could remember now the bloodstained cloth. His father had convinced him that it was nothing. Although he was little, he could see clearly that a body was lowered into the ground.
“How did you know all this? How did you know I was there when my grandfather and father buried you?”
The man chuckled. “Though my body may be rendered useless, my spirit still lives.”
Ikeme wept. He remembered his grandfather holding him close. He had asked him to promise him that he would never say a word about what he had seen to anyone—and being grandpa’s beloved—he did.
“Now you see why your son suffers for the sin he knows not—” Njete disappeared with his final words.

You guys are gonna love this. Trust me. I need your criticism. I need to know if I'm doing well. Please don't ignore when you see this

Thanks in advance ❣



boluto1 akins33 Finkap65 SeyiDominion Pweetiedude Captaintitan johnnywayne Bukolaberry Supervisor22
Oyinprince Moura7, Hungerbadoo, Phimzy, Ismaxtr3, pabon, amechispeaks, joshkke, pjmoa, Raachukwu, Orikinla, Adabar, Danboyi88, Therock5555, Oluwatimi2000, Divepen1, dontrulee(l, stevyno1, Kelvingarcia, KidDarkness, ghostwritter, Xandrose, MummyIMadeIt, crossfm, PraisesPblaze, ShackWes, lahrra, mincu, bomapraise, Chinnems, Elvictor, spending, Casan0va

Captaintitan:
Nice story ; waiting for next update

Already posted

Thank you ❤

Jaylynn:
You guys are gonna love this. Trust me. I need your criticism. I need to know if I'm doing well. I feel all alone in this place, and I know I ain't gonna do better if I'm not getting anything from my audience. Please don't ignore when you see this

Thanks in advance ❣



boluto1 akins33 Finkap65 SeyiDominion Pweetiedude Captaintitan johnnywayne Bukolaberry Supervisor22
Oyinprince Moura7, Hungerbadoo, Phimzy, Ismaxtr3, pabon, amechispeaks, joshkke, pjmoa, Raachukwu, Orikinla, Adabar, Danboyi88, Therock5555, Oluwatimi2000, Divepen1, dontrulee(l, stevyno1, Kelvingarcia, KidDarkness, ghostwritter, Xandrose, MummyIMadeIt, crossfm, PraisesPblaze, ShackWes, lahrra, mincu, bomapraise, Chinnems, Elvictor, spending, Casan0va

Thanks for the mention dear. �

Nice update

Hungerbadoo:
Nice update

I'm done Thank you

dontrulee:


Thanks for the mention dear. �

You're welcome